


To Whom You Belong

by Lady_Phenyx



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Gentle femdom, Light Bondage, Sort-of Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Phenyx/pseuds/Lady_Phenyx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack may have a shiny new position as a Guardian, but he was a seasonal spirit - and therefore, Mother Nature's - first. She takes a little time to remind him where his first loyalties lie and just who he belongs to.</p><p>Kink meme de-anon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Whom You Belong

Jack smiled as he put the last touches of frost on the trees. Being alone was strange now, with more children that could see him every day catching him off guard when he was working and the guardians to hang out with, suddenly finding himself going from being seen by no one to being seen by everyone, but it was nice to have a little break from the overwhelming attention. Lately there’d been a lot of pressure to start taking being a ‘Guardian’ seriously, and he was starting to wonder if the other guardians understood that he had things to do besides his guardian duties, such as they were. 

There was a rustle in the trees, and he tilted his head, listening as the Wind whispered to him. It didn’t use words, not properly, but somehow he could still understand it. _Mother Nature_ , it whispered, with an overtone of “wish to see” and “wait where you are”. 

His hand tightened involuntarily on his staff, but he stayed where he was. Running from Mother Nature was futile, and just irritated her. Better to stay where he was and see what she wanted. 

The wind gusted around him again and she was there, the four winds and a swirl of leaves unwrapping from around her as she appeared. As he had each and every one of the few times he’d seen her before, Jack had to fight the sudden urge to bow – he, Jack Frost, who showed no respect for authority or rules. There was just something about Mother Nature that hit him that way. He nodded instead, managing to indicate a bow without actually going that far.

Mother Nature inclined her head in greeting, her face obscured by the cloak she wore, the hood covering everything but part of her nose and her mouth. She gestured for him to step closer and he obeyed, fiddling with his staff nervously and trying to think if he’d done anything to upset her lately.

She laid a hand on his shoulder and the world blurred around them, and he staggered as they landed in her grove. This was new, she’d never taken him to her grove for a lecture or orders before. Her hand still on his shoulder, Mother Nature raised his chin with her other hand, looking into his face searchingly. Jack had to fight the urge to squirm as she studied him silently.

Apparently satisfied with what she saw, she finally released him, turning and taking a few steps away. Still not facing him, she spoke, her voice low and melodious. “So. You are a Guardian now.”

Automatically he nodded, tacking on a hasty ‘yes’ when he remembered she wasn’t looking at him, pride coloring the simple word.

“It is a large responsibility, to protect the children,” she continued, her voice as soft as the breeze, “but will you neglect your other responsibilities for it?”

Jack frowned, trying to understand, but she continued speaking before he could respond. “You are a Nature Spirit, first and foremost above all a Nature Spirit. Will you remember what that means? Or will you ignore it for your new position, new duties? If you remember, then…” She turned slightly, looking at him levelly from the depths of her hood, “kneel.”

Jack started, caught off guard by the sudden command, given in that same soft, level voice. Mother Nature turned fully, looking at him with eyes as cold as his frost that glowed faintly within the darkness cast by her hood. Hesitantly, never taking his eyes from her face, Jack found himself sinking to his knees in front of Mother Nature, as able to resist as the snow could resist melting in the spring’s heat.

She stepped back to stand over him, looking down at him inscrutably before pushing back her hood, shaking out her long black hair. She leaned over him, her hair surrounding them like a curtain, her eyes warming as she looked down at him.

She ran her hand over his hair in a gentle caress, her eyes going soft as she stroked the snow soft tumble. His eyes slid closed as her hand slid from his hair, her fingers tracing gentle and warm over his cool cheek, tilting his chin up to face her. Her fingers slid lower, resting on his pulse, feeling it thrum under her hands, his breath catching in his throat under her hand before it slide back to his cheek. 

Her other hand joined the first, cupping his face, her thumbs running over his cheekbones. His breathing stuttered and his eyes opened fractionally, looking up at her almost shyly.

“Jack Frost,” she said, her soft voice loud as a thunderclap in the silent grove, drawing Jack’s eyes open at the sound of his name, the thrill that still went through him when he heard it spoken traveling down his spine, “The Man in the Moon drew you from the lake, chose you for a Guardian, but you are still of Winter, a part of nature in ways the others cannot understand. You are Guardian and Nature Spirit, and you were mine first, for three hundred years. Do you deny it?”

Mutely Jack shook his head, and she smiled slightly, the merest hint of it brightening her face before growing solemn again. “Do you defy me, choosing to be Guardian more than Winter, denying my authority over you?” 

Jack repeated himself.

“You acknowledge, then, that you are Nature Spirit first and Guardian second? That you are, and have always been, mine?” 

Still silent, the words refusing to come from a throat gone tight with confusion and nerves, Jack nodded.

‘…Jack Frost, do you submit to me?” 

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Jack swallowed against the closing of his throat, slowly and jerkily nodding as his surprise faded into acceptance. Mother Nature smiled wider than before, laying a finger against his lips.

“Words, Jack Frost. I wish to hear the words. Do you submit to me?”

“…yes,” he whispered as she removed her finger. “I do submit.”

“Why?”

Breath stuttering, Jack tried to focus to answer her question as one long, soft hand slid from his cheek to rest against the back of his throat, thumb rubbing against his jumping pulse, the sensation so suddenly intimate that it was difficult to think, his eyes drifting closed despite resolutions to keep them open. “You…I…am a Nature Spirit. I am yours.”

Something wrapped around his wrists, pulling his arms behind his back. His eyes flew open as sudden fear spiked within him, seeing vines curl around his staff and lift it to safety, glancing down to see more vines twining around his legs. 

Mother Nature stroked his hair soothingly, and he felt his fear start to melt away under her hands and gentle eyes, though his heart still hammered and breath came quick, swallowing nervously as he waited for her next move. 

She smiled again, looking down at him with eyes equally loving, gentle, and possessive. Leaning forward, she laid her lips on his, soft and slow and gentle, possessive and hot as a brand against his skin. Her hand cupped the back of his head as she urged his mouth open, her tongue tangling with his for a brief, tantalizing minute.

As she pulled back, the vines rising and tangling together to make her a throne, he could feel more vines, small, thin, delicate things, working their way under his clothes, teasing and tickling. 

Gasping, he tried to squirm, the larger vines tightening their hold, more of them teasing his pants down past his hips, his hoodie over his head, baring him to Mother Nature’s gaze. 

His cheeks frosted over, the frost trailed down his neck to his chest as she continued to look at him, as her vines teased his nipples stiff and played with his cock, teasing him into hardness, trailing over his body and finding spots he didn’t even know were sensitive and exploiting each one as his soft panting and gasps filled the clearing, each catch of breath as loud as a scream in the quiet.

Her cloak melted away, the black fabric dissolving like smoke, the dress she wore underneath fluttering to the ground as leaves and flowers as it dissipated, leaving her as bare as him. The vines around Jack’s body urged him forward, forcing him to lean towards Mother Nature gently but irresistibly.

Her hand, cool and gentle as the breeze, passed over his head again before tangling in his hair, urging his head toward her. 

“Prove your loyalty,” she demanded quietly. He pushed back against her hand, straining away from her, suddenly struggling against her vines, his eyes suddenly playful as he glanced up at her, grinning suddenly as he fought, the message clear to both of them.

After all, four out of five bratty submissives agree, “You can’t make me” means “Make me,” and Jack was nothing if not a brat.

She chuckled, the sound low and dark as fresh turned earth. The grip in Jack’s hair tightened, the vines squeezing suddenly tight enough to make him gasp for breath as she pulled him back to her, loosening as quickly as they had tightened. “Naughty boy,” she scolded affectionately, almost crooning the words. She tugged on his hair, pulling him closer despite his play struggles, and this time he went willingly between her legs, Jack gasping out a little moan as she pressed his face against her. “My little rebel.” 

She gave his hair another little tug and he opened his mouth, running his tongue hesitantly along her. When she made a soft, appreciative noise he grew bolder, obviously inexperienced and unsure but growing more enthusiastic with each encouraging noise she made, burying his face in her curls before growing bolder and diving deep.

She tasted of spring and fall, summer and winter, clean and unique and utterly Mother Nature, and he was addicted from the first taste, from the first encouraging tug on his hair directing him, from the first word of praise that fell from her lips directing him and driving him on, shuddering and body going lax as he let himself fully submit to her will. 

Her vines teased over his body, drawing moans and gasps from him as they urged him higher, his mouth faltering with each new sensation. He cried out as the first broached him, pulling away from Mother Nature to gasp and spasm. It was a thin little vine, but the sensation was entirely new, and she tipped his face up so she could see each expression cross his face as it worked its way inside his body. 

“Relax, my Frost,” she said softly, still a command, and there was no doubt, no hesitation in his obedience to her order. At that moment he was hers, utterly, and would do anything she asked of him. When she called him her good boy, stroking his hair again and nearly smothering him with her wonderful heat he shuddered, looking up at her with glazed, adoring eyes.

Suddenly it brushed against something that sent pleasure sparking across his entire body, slamming his eyes shut and arching his back involuntarily as it continued to exploit that weakness. She ran a hand across hair that froze and unfroze as he squirmed, ice creeping across his body and melting just as rapidly as he thrashed, pleasure warming his normally icy cold body.

“Is it terrible, pet?” Mother Nature asked quietly, cooing over him. “Do you want me to stop?”

He shook his head frantically as she chuckled. “No, no, please, more, _please_ …”

“More?” she asked, humor and teasing coloring her voice. “Greedy little thing. If you want more,” leaning back in her throne, “then earn it, pet.”

He didn’t need more encouragement than that to bury his face in her folds again, trying to taste every inch of her. Another vine worked its way inside his body as he did and he keened out his want, floating in a mist where there was nothing but the two of them, her taste in his mouth and her vines over his body, teasing and working and taking him higher than he’d ever imagined he could fly.

Abruptly she seized his hair again, dragging his mouth to hers. This kiss was messy and rough, her mouth demanding his surrender. He broke away with a cry as a third vine forced its way inside, all three moving in their own independent, irregular rhythms. 

He collapsed against her shoulder, frost forming with each gasping, irregular breath he struggled to take. Somewhere in the haze he could hear her voice, soft and possessive, her hands stroking over his hair, his body in an almost soothing counterpart to the tempest her vines were creating. “Jack, Jack, my Frost, my Winter, my pet, that’s right, let me take care of you, my sweet little Frost…”

Her vines twisted together into a mass inside him, thrusting as one against that spot that made his vision go white, and his scream reached the heavens as his limits were reached and surpassed, falling over the edge into completion, not quite fainting but insensible enough that whatever she did after that didn’t register.

 

When he came back to himself, the vines were gone and he was wrapped in Mother Nature’s arms and cloak, held against her lovingly. She was stroking his hair and back, soft and gentle and soothingly as the mother she was named for. The hand left his hair, offering a cup made of a leaf filled to the brim with water. At her urging he sipped at it, utterly content and sleepy, surprised to find himself feeling the chill and grateful for her warmth. She was murmuring praise as she returned to stroking his hair, grounding him back to earth and his body. “Mine, my little Spirit of Winter, that’s right, my little one…”

Eventually he leaned back, blinking up at her, unwilling just yet to leave the comfort she offered but unsure of his welcome for much longer. 

She pressed a kiss to his hair. “Back with me, my Frost?” she asked. A frost creeping across his cheeks, Jack nodded, unresisting as she drew him back down to cuddle a little longer. “Next time _they_ call you,” she whispered, “when _they_ forget that you are more than just a Guardian, that you belong to me, I want you to remember this moment. And do not doubt, should you forget, I will be there to remind you. Should it be necessary I will not hesitate to remind you who you belong to, even if I need take you in front of them to make my point. Am I understood, my Frost?”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Oh, yes.”


End file.
